


In the Attic of the Universe

by CrestofCaw



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Funeral, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, happens before fic, its mostly canon compliant except for small things, its never stated directly but its like obvious, oikawa is a really good friend but also hurting, volleyball is only really mentioned lol sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrestofCaw/pseuds/CrestofCaw
Summary: After graduation, Akaashi had ran. None of his old team members and friends had contact with him since. 5 years later, a tragic, hometown accident brings Akaashi back to the place he had escaped. Bokuto finds his way back into Akaashi's life and unearths the tragedy that sent Akaashi off the face of the earth.~“I couldn’t tell him that I was ok or that I was sorry or…” Akaashi’s breath grew short in his lungs. Sharp intakes proceeded by heavy exhales.Akaashi turned and began rushing towards the door to the funeral hall. Turing the corner, out the door, Akaashi bumped into a broad figure.“I’m sorry, I-““Akaashi?” The figure said.Akaashi brought his panicked eyes up to meet Bokuto’s, wide in shock.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 62
Kudos: 179





	1. In the Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just like that. The universe had dragged Akaashi out of the cabinet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to In the Attic of the Universe!  
> I've been working super hard on this! My goal is to get one chapter out a day :)
> 
> This fic is a little conceptual as it's titled after the album "In the Attic of the Universe" by The Antlers.  
> Each chapter is a different track from the song, and often certain aspects take inspiration from the songs.  
> I love this album and if y'all wanna listen to it (in order recommended) to get in the mood, the option is there!
> 
> This fic deals with a lot of dark subjects. It's never explicit because that's not how I wanted to present it. It has a lot of me in it, so I'm sorry if it's not very good to read. :)
> 
> (one tiny plot thing to note is that I made Akaashi and Bokuto both in the same grade. It's just how I wanted to write it for certain plot details but it doesn't really matter much).
> 
> Without further ado... please enjoy!

T R A C K 1  
...intheattic...

Akaashi set his phone on the edge of his bed. Bokuto’s voice rang out, filling his bedroom with his energetic tone. 

“Akaashi! Are you excited for the party?” 

Akaashi rolled his eyes, though Bokuto wouldn’t be able to see it. He pulled his tee shirt over his head and opened his wardrobe to search for an outfit. 

“Not in the slightest, Bokuto. I’m only going because you’re making me.” 

Bokuto let out an exasperated huff. “Because we just graduated! Everyone has to go to at least one party before they go to college.” 

Akaashi began buttoning up a plum shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it. I’m about to drive over to your house and we can walk over from there.” 

Bokuto immediately perked up at this, “Yay! You’re the best, ‘Kaashi! I’ll see you soon!” 

Akaashi couldn’t help the light smirk planting on his face. “Alright, I’ll see you soon.” 

Hanging up the phone, Akaashi finished getting dressed, pulling a maroon sweater over his button-up, tucked into plum chino pants. Akaashi may not have wanted to go to this party, but he figured it couldn’t be all that bad. He would have a tiny bit to drink, talk to Bokuto and some other friends who he was told would be there. What was the harm?

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

Akaashi’s knees were pressed against his forehead. He breathed shallow breaths as he sat in pitch black. He resided in one of the kitchen cabinets he left empty for this purpose. As though the universe would not continue without his presence. As though he could escape it inside this cabinet where nothing changed because nothing existed. He curled inside himself, knowing the universe would continue just fine without him. In its infinite vastness, he would never be able to change its landscape.

Today was a bad day.

He heard light footsteps traverse from the hall to directly outside the cabinet. Silence filled the apartment for a moment, until the moaning of a coffee maker cut through. The intruder began humming a soft melody, some pop song he had played over the speakers before. Before long, Akaashi heard the sound of liquid being poured twice. Joints popped as his roommate bent down to the kitchen floor.

knock knock knock

Akaashi creaked the cabinet door open. Oikawa was sitting cross-legged on the other side. The brunette pushed a yellow mug towards the cabinets opening. Akaashi hummed, lifting the mug inside.

“Thanks.”

Oikawa began to pour multiple spoonfuls of sugar into his own coffee. “I can’t drink an entire pot by myself.”

Akaashi chuckled lightly. The two sat silently, blowing on their mugs to cool the liquid. Akaashi’s lips pressed together. If this were a normal day, Oikawa would be jabbering on about something or another.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, suspiciously.

Oikawa put on a confused face. But after 5 years of being roommates, Akaashi could tell immediately how fake it was. “What makes you think somethings wrong?”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Oikawa stared back, considering his best response. Finally, he let out a sigh and slumped against the cabinet next to the one Akaashi inhabited. “Ok, fine. I got a text this morning from… from one of your high school teammates.”

Akaashi immediately was put on edge. He wanted to slam the cabinet door shut and leave the universe again. But he stayed still.

“… And I was informed, um… Akaashi, Haruki Komi passed away.”

And just like that. The universe had dragged Akaashi out of the cabinet.

.. / ..-. . .-.. - / .-.. .. -.- . / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / --. --- --- -.. / .. -. / -- -.-- / .-.. .. ..-. . / .... .- -.. / .- -. / . -..- .--. .. .-. .- - .. --- -. / -.. .- - . .-.-.-

Packing to visit home was weird. In a way, Akaashi hadn’t really registered that that was what they were doing. Because he hadn’t been back in five years. So folding his clothes into his suitcase felt almost akin to packing for a trip. The only sign alluding to a less enjoyable experience was the black suits they packed in garment bags. But maybe they were just planning to go to a fancy restaurant. Oikawa did not know Komi, but he was going with him because this was going to be really hard.

Akaashi’s mother was thrilled that he was coming home. She attempted to sober out upon hearing the reason, but he couldn’t blame her excitement. He hated having to leave his mother like he did. It was a casualty of a crisis. She was the only one from his past he had kept any form of contact with. Even then, it was just small updates and happy birthday’s sent out of guilt.

They rode the train to Akaashi’s hometown, attempting to keep themselves entertained on the five and a half hour ride.

“Is it squishy?”

“Oikawa, what sort of question is that?”

“My nineteenth. I still have one left to ask, so answer.”

“Uh, yes and no…”

“Aka-chan, that’s not very helpful.”

“It’s the best answer I can give! You’ll understand when you figure it out.”

“Ugh! Fine! Ok, last one, so I have to guess what it is.” Oikawa theatrically tapped his finger to his chin. “Is it... a fish?”

Akaashi looked impressed. It was wrong, but “Oo, so close. It was a crab.”

So many connections were being made in Oikawa’s mind. He let out a childish “oooohhhhh.”

The speaker above them announced that they were half an hour from their arrival. Akaashi immediately sobered. The pit of his stomach felt like it was being filled with poison. 

Oikawa attempted to remedy his anxieties. “Ok, my turn-“

“Could we just… be quiet for the rest?” Akaashi forced.

“If that’s what you want.” Oikawa said lightheartedly, pulling out his phone and tapping away at some game he was certainly addicted to.

Akaashi stared out the window of the train. The scenery was not quite familiar yet, but he knew it would be shortly. He wasn’t ready to be there. He wasn’t ready to see what had changed and what hadn’t. He wasn’t ready for the faces he recognized looking at him in shock and the ones he didn’t not give him a second glance.

When his town finally came in to view, Akaashi was almost surprised to find that it wasn’t it complete disarray. As though he had lost his understanding of object permanence. That he truly thought him not being there would cause it to cease its existence. It was exactly as it had been left. A few new buildings were scattered about. In fact, it seemed as though it had become busier. This revealed a second miscalculation on Akaashi’s part. Just because he had left doesn’t mean everyone else did too.

Soon he would have to step off this train. Soon he would be receiving a thousand questions of ‘why?’ He didn’t want to do that. He wanted to stay on this train and never get off. He wanted this to just be another town they passed through on their journey. Everything was spinning.

Oikawa’s voice rang over his internal dialogue. “Hey, Aka-chan. Tell me about the latest manga that you’re editing.”

Akaashi had gotten his degree in literature. His dream job was to edit and publish novels. The only available position he had been offered, however, was in manga. He didn’t complain, though. The pay was good and Oikawa’s amazement that he would be helping to create manga was certainly pleasing. Now, however, Oikawa was asking him about it as a distraction. He did not point this out. He was grateful.

So, Akaashi told Oikawa about this new writer who he’s really excited to publish for. He tells him about her creativity and talent. He brought along a draft to critique on their trip. Oikawa listened politely and nodded along. By the time Akaashi had finished updating Oikawa on everything new in the manga world, the train was screeching to a halt. Akaashi balled his left hand into a fist and held it up towards his friend. Oikawa instinctively knew what this meant. He wrapped his hand around Akaashi’s fist. He didn’t squeeze or move, just held it there. Akaashi’s breathing leveled. They prepared to get off.

“Keiji!” Akaashi’s mother pulled him into a tight embrace. Her fingers pressing into his back. Oikawa stood back, noting how similar the two looked. They shared their thick, wavy, black hair, their heavy-lidded deep blue eyes, and their sharp features.

“Keiji, dear, you’ve gotten so thin.” She dotted. Akaashi wanted to fuss, but she was right. He was extremely frail. His frame had always been slim, but he now appeared meek. 

“Good afternoon and nice to meet you, Ms. Akaashi.” Oikawa purred.

“Please, call me Izanami, dear! You must be Oikawa!” She now pulled Oikawa into a crushing hug. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

Akaashi smiled softly. His mother hadn’t changed. She did look tired, however. Guilt pierced through him. ‘Had I done that to her?’

They all sat in the living room, exchanging light chatter before the two boys headed upstairs to unpack. Entering Akaashi’s old bedroom was disorienting. While other parts of the house were relatively unchanged, they still held evidence of being lived in. Akaashi’s bedroom very clearly hadn’t been touched since he had left. It was thick in the atmosphere. Only ghosts resided here anymore.

“Let’s stay somewhere else.” Akaashi finally spoke from in the doorway.

Oikawa’s brows furrowed, lips curled amused. “What do you mean? Where else are we supposed to sleep?”

Akaashi responded by turning around and leading Oikawa down the hall. In the corner of the house, as though hiding from them, was a door shorter and narrower than the others. Akaashi creaked it open to reveal a steep staircase heading forward a few steps, and then directly to the right. The two trudged up the steps to the attic.

“To be honest, the last few weeks I was in this house I stayed up here.” Akaashi said behind his shoulder.

“Why?” Oikawa asked frankly.

Akaashi thought on that question for a second. Why did he do that? “I…. I don’t know.”

“Maybe you knew you were going to leave. This just made it easier.”

Akaashi remained still, mulling this over. “Maybe.”

While the attic had also been left vacant for the past five years, the atmosphere felt so different. It was the difference between watching home videos and looking through an old photo album. The futon Akaashi had slept in when he resided here remained in the corner of the room. Oikawa pulled his own out of his suitcase and rolled it out right next to his.

“Aka-chan, this is just like a sleepover!” Oikawa exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Oikawa and Akaashi had gotten along extremely well from the moment they truly met. Had it been under different circumstances, had Oikawa a reason to hide is hurting, they most certainly wouldn’t have. But when they met, Akaashi knew of Oikawa’s pain and Oikawa was aching from hiding it for so long. It was that relationship formed around complete honesty about both their suffering that was so foreign and welcome to the two.

Oikawa bounced onto the old sofa pressed against the wall opposite a small window. The fabric of the couch was faded and torn, long retired from the living room. Akaashi loved that sofa. He crossed the room to sit beside his roommate. Oikawa shifted his body to rest his head in Akaashi’s lap, long spindly legs dangling off the arm of the couch. Akaashi mindlessly cards his fingers through Oikawa’s silky hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” He tested.

Oikawa flipped over to rest his chin on Akaashi’s thigh, eyes planted directly into his own. “Of course.”

“How did you know about Komi? I mean, I know you got a text from one of my teammates… but how?”

“Bokuto told me.”

Akaashi’s breath caught, but Oikawa continued.

“We were going to be on the same team in university. I had known about you falling off the face of the earth, but obviously I didn’t know you yet. So when I…. left the team and found you, I may have texted him that you were safe and ok and that I’d protect you and I’m sorry I know that’s not what you-“

“It’s okay, Oikawa. I’m glad. It wasn’t fair of me to leave without telling anyone I was at least ok.” The back of the sofa wheezed as Akaashi leaned against it.

“Hey. Remember, Aka-chan? We aren’t feeling guilty about leaving everyone. We were hurting, anyone would have made our decision.”

Akaashi glanced out the window. The sky was already getting dark. Damn winter days. He wanted to question Oikawa’s use of the past tense. But instead he just nodded. 

“I think dinner might be ready.” He stated, pressing off the couch.

Dinner was a little awkward. They had already spent all of their safe talking points earlier when they first arrived. Talking about anything else without recognizing the elephant in the room was cumbersome. They had left.

Oikawa seemed to be getting along great with Akaashi’s mother, though. He turned his charm up to one thousand. She leaned her head back with laughter.

“Oh, Oikawa you are just too much! I didn’t know Akaashi had such hilarious friends.”

Akaashi blushed furiously, “Mom!”

“I’m sorry, dear. You’re just a bit… serious.” She murmured.

Oikawa found this to be about the most amusing thing he’d ever experience. “I know, right? I love Aka-chan to death, but sometimes he can make accountants yawn.”

The two continued laughing and joking. Despite his protests, Akaashi was actually grateful that Oikawa was acting as a social buffer. He knew it would have been tense otherwise.

After their meal, the three began clearing their plates.

“I think I’m gonna go for a little walk.” Akaashi exclaimed.

His mother looked nervous, “It’s November, honey. It’s dark and cold.”

Akaashi sighed lightly. “I’ll bundle up. I promise to be careful.”

Oikawa understood how important it was for Akaashi to clear his head when he was in a funk. “ I’ve tried to stop him, but he loves going for late night walks. I’ll help you clean the dishes, Izanami.”

His mother finally conceded, kissing her son’s cheek before he headed out the door.

The temperature had dropped fast, the air biting viciously at every inch of exposed skin. Akaashi didn’t mind, however. He instead focused on the crunch of his shoes against the thin layer of snow on the ground.

Everything was overwhelming. He was a cup filled to the brim with liquid, drops slipping off the edge and down his sides. Cold air filled his lungs, constricting his throat painfully. Why was coming home so hard? It wasn’t just the time they were gone, but the finality of leaving. And now here he was. Back for three days, and then what? Gone forever again until the next hometown tragedy? He shouldn’t have come at all. This sets a dangerous precedent. But he was here.

There were no tears. Just the heavy feeling weighing him down, anchoring him to the forest floor. And he was both too full and completely drained at once.

Back in the attic, Akaashi flopped, unceremoniously, to the floor. Oikawa follows him in. He had been chatting with Akaashi’s mother until he noticed the boy return and trudge up the steps.

Akaashi pulled his hand out from under his limp body, holding out a fist. Oikawa sits next to him, wrapping his hand around his.

“I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see them tomorrow.” Akaashi muttered.

“But you also really want to see them tomorrow. Cognitive dissonance.”

Akaashi thought on it for a moment. “Maybe…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's chapter 1: In the Attic.
> 
> I always have a hard time with exposition, so I hope it was ok! I've already finished the second chapter so it'll be up tomorrow!!  
> I'd love to read any comments :) This is just for fun and a little bit of coping but I do enjoy reading thoughts!
> 
> Thanks for reading, it means a lot!


	2. Look!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I left with the full intention of never coming back. But it still is… strange. That Komi… passed away thinking that I was gone for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Onto chapter 2!
> 
> Your comments were sweet and motivated me well! I hope I continue to entertain y'all.

T R A C K 2  
...look!...

The temperature felt as though it increased ten degrees just passing through the threshold of the house. There were bodies spread amongst every wall and room, but it wasn’t impossible to navigate. Bokuto grabbed onto Akaashi’s wrist and pulled him into a room to their left. Akaashi recognized Washio and the two trotted across the floor to join him. Bokuto spoke for the two.

“Hey, man!” He cheerfully greeted. “Where’s the booze?”

Akaashi huffed. He wasn’t opposed to drinking, in fact, he planned on it. But he’d never been to a party before. He felt wrong about this.

The two were led to the kitchen, where every square inch of counter space was occupied with bottles. The two were each handed plastic cups they filled with beer, eagerly in Bokuto’s case and hesitantly in Akaashi’s. Akaashi sipped at his drink. It was by no means strong, but his face still scrunched up in distaste.

Bokuto let out a bellowing laugh. He chose not to pick on Akaashi’s sensitive taste buds too much, instead opting to gulp his drink down with lightning speed. Akaashi was barely on his third sip by the time Bokuto poured a second drink.

They stayed in the kitchen for the next few minutes, chatting with people who passed through. 

This wasn’t so bad.

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

The calling hours were when this entire ordeal began to feel real. Akaashi and Oikawa arrived at the funeral home only a few minutes after the calling hours were set to begin, so the room was only lightly occupied. Akaashi pulled at the bottom of his suit jacket, smoothing the thick, black material out. Greeting Komi’s mother was difficult. It seemed as though she didn’t know he had been off the grid for the past five years. He was just “one of Komi’s High School friends.” And yeah. He was.

Walking up to the casket was the most surreal moment of blunt realism. It was as though everything else had not been real, so now that he was experiencing reality it felt like a dream. Komi’s body was so painfully recognizable. Every line and curve was that of his old teammate. But it didn’t seem like a body that was once inhabited. It felt impossible for the thing laying in front of him to have ever been animate.

The second thing he hadn’t recognized until it was in front of him was how young Komi was. Oh yeah. They were the same age. Death had always been for people with more experience than Akaashi. A fact that meant Akaashi had more to experience. But Komi hadn’t. Akaashi could die tomorrow and that would be the most unsatisfying novel anyone could read. Is that how Komi’s story was?

He had been told that Komi died in a car accident. Some drunk driver hit him. When he spoke to Komi’s mother, she felt it intrinsic to point out that it was instantaneous. Komi didn’t suffer. Akaashi thought it was such an odd thing to point out to someone. He concluded she must have been saying it more to herself than others. It must have been what she needed to hear.

So he nodded to her, sympathetically. Reassuring her that he was in a good place. Or something along those lines. The words came out without a second thought or plan to them. Akaashi hadn’t truly thought about afterlife because he didn’t believe in it. But comforting others with belief was instinctual. It wasn’t a bad thing. Just strange.

Akaashi heard the sounds of sobbing behind him as he stood at the casket. This is what made him realize he should be crying. It wasn’t for a lack of sadness, but lack of ability.

Instead his eyes remain trained on Komi’s body. “I couldn’t tell him.”

Oikawa turned his head towards him, confused.

“I couldn’t tell him that I was ok or that I was sorry or…” Akaashi’s breath grew short in his lungs. Sharp intakes proceeded by heavy exhales.

Oikawa said something, probably reassurance. But he sounded like he was underwater a million miles away. Akaashi turned and began rushing towards the door to the funeral hall. Turing the corner, out the door, Akaashi bumped into a broad figure.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Akaashi?” The figure said.

Akaashi brought his panicked eyes up to meet Bokuto’s, wide in shock. The man had broadened out over the years, features defining into more mature ones. But he was still Bokuto. His hair still those goofy spikes dyed black-and-white.

He couldn’t do this. Not right now.

Akaashi shuffles past the other man, without a word, and begins sprinting out of the funeral home. 

Bokuto turned to pursue him, but Oikawa places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get him. He’s just panicking.”

So that’s how Oikawa was left jogging several yards behind Akaashi, who was running down the street to nowhere in particular. He just needed to get away from that place. After five minutes of this, the two ended up at a playground. Akaashi stands on the gravel, huffing furiously.

“Let’s swing.” Oikawa says, passing Akaashi to hop onto the swing set.

Akaashi followed, easing into one. “Be careful with your knee.”

Oikawa flashed him an unimpressed look. “Really? You say that now after I chased you down the street?”

Akaashi whispered a short sorry.

Oikawa shrugs off the apology. “So… What was running through that pretty head of yours?”

Akaashi took a minute to answer. “I left with the full intention of never coming back. But it still is… strange. That Komi… passed away thinking that I was gone for good.”

“He knew you were alive and safe, Aka-chan. Bokuto had to have told all of them.” Oikawa comforted.

Akaashi’s grimace did not shift. “I know that… but… I left. I left all of them. And even if I were to fix things, I couldn’t with him. That’s over.”

Oikawa reached out and wrapped his hand in Akaashi’s. “You have nothing to ‘fix.’ You were hurting. You are hurting.”

Akaashi stared directly into the ground. Oikawa pushed on.

“I’m not going to push you to do anything. And I will stand by you, no matter what choose to do.” He took another breath. “But I think they can help you heal. I think they want to help you heal.”

Akaashi’s only acknowledgement of Oikawa’s suggestion was to untwine his hand from the other’s and ball it into a fist. Oikawa wrapped his hand around the fist, just like they had done a thousand times.

Bokuto stood in the corner of the service room, talking in hushed voices with Washio and Konoha. They all agreed that it didn’t feel real. That it still feels like they’re waiting for their friend to stand up from the casket and announce it as a huge prank.

Bokuto’s eyes flashed up as Akaashi and Oikawa trudged back into the room. The two walk over to the group.

Akaashi looked uncomfortable, but greeted them politely. “Hello, everyone.”

Bokuto’s brow furrowed. “Akaashi. How long are you back?”

“Just until Sunday.”

Bokuto thought that wasn’t enough time. Today was Friday for christ’s sake. He couldn’t help the disappointment that was cast over his face.

“Can I, maybe, talk to you, Akaashi? Alone?” Bokuto seemed to say Akaashi’s name a lot. It was like he still wasn’t convinced the boy was truly there. Like he was saying his name to confirm that’s who he was looking at.

“Ok, Bokuto.” Akaashi wasn’t much different in that respect.

The two slipped into an empty room down the hall from the calling hours. Akaashi stepped in tentatively as Bokuto eased the door shut. Akaashi’s eyes remain glued to the floor. He didn’t hear Bokuto move from the door. He only heard the crack of his voice as he began to speak. Voice soft, afraid of shattering Akaashi right there.

“So, you’re back.”

Akaashi’s eyes remained trained to the floor. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Why’d you leave, Keiji?”

It was the whimper at the end of his sentence that ripped Akaashi’s stare to Bokuto. Tears streamed down his face; rivers flowing from betrayal. 

Akaashi let out a shaky breath. “I… I was hurting. A lot. And I spent so long dealing with it separately, eventually it became too much. I couldn’t separate my hurt from my life.”

“But I was here for you. You-“

“I know. I could’ve told you. I should’ve told you. And I’m sorry I didn’t.” Akaashi felt tears prick at his eyes. That was new. “I’m so sorry, Bokuto. It was unfair and selfish and-“

Bokuto cut him off, “Stop making this a fault thing. Just- … Can I hug you?”

Akaashi nodded.

Bokuto’s firm arms wrapped tightly around Akaashi’s frame. His own, slender ones slotting below his like puzzle pieces. Bokuto hugged him tightly. To make sure he was real. To make sure he was here. The tears that once threatened to break to the surface now flowed freely down Akaashi’s cheeks, depositing onto the shoulders of Bokuto’s suit jacket. He didn’t do this.

Bokuto’s voice was muddled through tears. “You’re so thin, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi shook in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to start again.”

“I don’t want you to leave me. Not again.” Bokuto paused to let out a shuddered breath. “I lived without you for five years and it was the worst hell imaginable. But I did it, because, while I didn’t know what was the matter, I knew you needed space… To deal with it. But I can’t anymore. I can’t let this go.”

‘I just got back though.’ The thought only crossed Akaashi’s mind for a second before being erased, because he knew better. He knew that when he tore his roots from the soil of Bokuto, the intricate tunnels that he once inhabited were never filled in. And now that he was back, his roots fit right back inside.

But he couldn’t make that promise. “We should go back to the others.” Akaashi wipes his face on his sleeve.

Oikawa seemed to be behaving himself quite nicely with the others. Not that Akaashi expected less of him; Oikawa was histrionic but he knew the time and place and people.

“Hey, guys.” Akaashi greeted meekly, inserting himself into their circle. Bokuto was beside him. If the others had noticed their pink, tear-stained cheeks, they didn’t comment.

“Why don’t you all go up together, huh?” Oikawa suggested.

Akaashi turned to the lanky man, “I’d hate to leave you-“

“No, no, Aka-chan. I’m not gonna intrude.” Oikawa waved him off. “Plus my knee is killing me from chasing your dumbass down earlier, so I’m gonna go stretch it.”

Akaashi gave an apologetic glance before heading up to the front with his former teammates. He didn’t flinch when Bokuto slotted his hand with his. He’d be lying to say nerves weren’t pricking at him to tear away. But he understood Bokuto’s need for physical touch. That was his comfort.

Akaashi stared at Komi, lying in the casket. For once, he didn’t think about how he had left things. His regrets or guilt. He just thought about the boy Komi was. He thought about how he was the shortest on the team, but if you brought it up he would yell at you. He thought about how he could take a nap literally anytime, anywhere. He thought about how he would always say what was on his mind. He wasn’t too different from Bokuto in that sense. 

Speaking of Bokuto, the man in question wrapped his arm around Akaashi’s waist. It was at this moment Akaashi found himself crying for the second time that day. These were cathartic tears. In a way, he is relieved by the tears because they belonged. He should be crying. Bokuto gave Akaashi a light squeeze which caused him to let out a heart wrenching sob, the taller man creating a whimper as though he were holding in one of his own.

Akaashi picked up on this. ‘Was Bokuto trying to stay strong for me?’ They should both be allowed to cry. So he turns to look directly into Bokuto’s eyes and lets out a loud, straining wail. Bokuto couldn’t hold his sobs in any longer, pulling Akaashi in.

.-.. .. -.- . / --- -. . / -.. .- -.-- / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / --. --- / .- .-- .- -.--

Akaashi felt both refreshed and drained when he slipped into the car. Thankfully, Oikawa offered to drive them back home, already having the heaters turned up to protect them from the biting, winter air.

“Aka-chan, how do you feel?” Oikawa said warmly.

Akaashi let out a little sigh, leaning his seat back. “Sad. But right now it’s just for Komi.”

“You cried.”

“Yeah.”

And they both knew what that meant. That Akaashi hadn’t cried in years. That for as much as this hurts, it might just be him healing. Like wounds healing improperly being forced back open. Sure, it hurts like hell, but in time it will heal so much better.

“Hey, Oikawa.”

“Hm?”

Akaashi looked out the window as they passed the playground they had been at. “What would you think about staying a little longer? I mean I understand if you can’t cus’ work or you don’t want to or-“

“I’ll stay.” Oikawa silenced Akaashi’s rambling. “It’s nice to have a little break.”

Akaashi looked to his roommate, who was wearing a smile that held just the slightest amount of slyness. “What?” He prodded suspiciously.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

Akaashi huffed. “I promise.”

“I may have predicted this and already requested the week off of work.”

“Week?” Akaashi prodded.

Oikawa chuckled. “Aka-chan, it’ll be fine! I’m kinda the best physical trainer ever, they can’t get mad at me.” It was an exaggeration but not much of one; Oikawa truly was incredible at what he did.

“I guess we could stay an extra week. I’ll just have my clients email me their work.” Oikawa pumped his fist in the air, Akaashi holding up a scolding finger. “But that means no distracting me while I work.”

Oikawa’s grin did not falter. “Aka-chan, no faith in me.”

Akaashi giggled, before muttering, “My mom is gonna be thrilled that you’re staying. I think she really likes you.”

“How could she not? I’m kind of the best!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working diligently, but I hit a tiny bit of writers block today while working on chapter 3. Hopefully I'll be able to keep the pace I want, but I'm sorry if not!
> 
> Comments and kudos are so so so appreciated!
> 
> Again, this is just a little thing for fun. I'm not an experienced writer so sorry about the quality.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. On the Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s the thing about being a mom, though.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss into his temple.”I’ll always be here for you to come back to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha sorry i missed yesterday's post but here we are!  
> i hope you all are doing well and thanks for sticking around with me :)

T R A C K 3  
...ontheroof...

Upon finishing his third drink, Bokuto thrusted his empty cup into Akaashi’s hand. “I have to pee!” He shrieked.

“Bokuto, you don’t need to yell that. I think there’s a line.” Akaashi slid his half-full cup into Bokuto’s discard one, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Bokuto patted Akaashi on the back, forcefully. Thankfully, the black-haired boy was not taking a sip. “I’ll be right back! I promise!”

And then Akaashi was alone. Well, not literally. The kitchen was still relatively full of party-goers.

This is why he never wanted to come to parties.

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

The funeral was like everything you had seen in movies. The sky was a pale grey, clouds dark and angry. Attendees carried umbrellas to protect themselves from the rain that was so cliché. Family members wailing into wads of tissue. Akaashi slid into a pew, sitting down directly in between Oikawa and Bokuto. The latter’s presence was familiar and new. Akaashi preferred it over some stranger, however.

Everyone cried. A lot. Great big tears streaming down cheeks, dropping into trembling laps. Family members shared anecdotes about Komi and affirmations that he was happy. Akaashi released a light gasp as Bokuto stood up from his seat and walked towards the podium in the front of the room.

He was giving a eulogy. He was going to stand in front of everyone and talk about his dead friend and former teammate. It made sense; Bokuto had been his captain in high school and the two, apparently, were roommates in college. But it was still such a strange feeling. People like them weren’t supposed to give eulogies. Not yet. But, of course, people like Komi weren’t supposed to die. Not yet.

Bokuto cleared his throat and began speaking to the audience. His voice was meek and timid, but he still captivated every member of that audience. His speech made Akaashi remember everything he had loved about Bokuto. He spoke earnestly about Komi’s drive and passion. His loyalty and dedication. He had a way of making the truth sound so heartfelt. It was the ending that shocked everyone. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He tapped the screen a couple times and held it to the microphone attached to the podium. “H-he used to send me voicemails when I couldn’t reach my phone. And I kept all of them, but this was my favorite one.” He was barely holding himself together. He tapped the screen and the room was filled with Komi’s voice.

“Hey, Bo. I’m driving back to our dorm. I saw your mom, by the way, she told me to make sure you were washing your sheets. Nerd. Anyway, I might be a little late because… I got a little lost. I think I missed my exit and now I’m at an aquarium. But I pet a sting ray so that’s pretty cool… I’ll be back sometime tonight. I’ll try not to wake you. See you then.”

There was laughter and tears and hugging. It was the most perfect, most Bokuto, thing to do. Akaashi figured there was not a single dry eye in the audience. Certainly not his own. As Bokuto slumped back into his chair, Akaashi lightly patted his thigh.

“That was perfect, Bokuto.”

He hoped Bokuto knew how meaningful that was.

. ...- . .-. -.-- --- -. . / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-. . .- .-.. .. --.. . / .-- .... .- - / .- / -- .. ... - .- -.- . / - .... . -.-- / -- .- -.. . / .- -. -.. / .-.. . .- ...- . / -- .

Oikawa’s long legs rested messily in Akaashi’s lap. The two were piled on the old sofa in the attic with a laptop nestled between them. Some old sci-fi movie Oikawa insisted they watch was playing. This was their favorite ritual. “Saturday-Crappy-Movie-Night” they would call it. Oikawa’s legs shifted as Akaashi’s phone vibrated from within his pocket. The two adjusted, allowing Akaashi to retrieve the device. A text from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

23:07 < Hey! Oikawa gave me your number :) We should catch up.

23:07 < Oh yeah, this is Bokuto :S

Akaashi stared at the screen for a moment before setting it aside, leaving the text unanswered. He pondered whether he should respond. He knew his conscience had already decided to at least try to rebuild those bridges he had torn down. But actually making that first step. That was harder. Because once he did he knew there would be no going back.

“Who was it?” Oikawa asked, uninterested, eyes remaining trained to the film. The screen faded to darkness in a poorly animated shot of space, revealing the two men’s reflections. Oikawa noticed the distinct consideration on Akaashi’s face. He reached over and tapped the space bar, pausing the movie.

“It was a text from Bokuto. He wants to catch up.” Akaashi replied.

Oikawa’s left eyebrow flicked upwards. “Are you gonna go?”

Akaashi’s lips tightened into a line. “… I don’t know yet. I should. And I know I’ll regret it in the long run if I don’t.”

“So do it.”

“… But then I’d have to explain everything. Why I had to leave.”

Oikawa pulled his calves off of Akaashi’s lap, inching closer to the man. “No, you don’t. You have no obligation to tell him anything.”

Akaashi mulled this over. “I guess you’re right.” He still looked uncertain, but more assured.

“I’m always right!” Oikawa turned his nose up, dramatically.

Rather than providing a witty response, Akaashi snatched his phone from the arm of the couch and typed out a reply.

I’d like that. I’m gonna be staying home a few more days jsyk > 23:09  
How does tomorrow morning coffee sound? > 23:09

23:10 < Hell yeahhhhhhh!!!! :D

Akaashi’s lips curled into a smile at Bokuto’s excessive happiness over coffee. Oikawa picked up on it, immediately.

“Awww, I see that smile, Aka-chan!” He pinched Akaashi’s cheek.

Akaashi glared at Oikawa. “I’m not smiling,” He muttered, cheek still being stretched.

“Uh huh.”

They proceeded to watch the movie. Akaashi had lost all threads of the plot, as he tended to during these Movie Nights. Oikawa, in typical-Oikawa fashion, seemed to be obnoxiously invested. That was until the last twentyish minutes of the film, which were, for some ungodly reason, dedicated to a sex scene between one of the aliens and human survivors.

Akaashi’s face pulled into complete disgust. “Ugh, Oikawa, why’d you make me watch th-“ He stopped himself at the sight of Oikawa, fast asleep.

“Asshole.” He muttered, draping a blanket over him and shutting the laptop.

He thought about how grateful he was to have Oikawa in his life. The two would appear to be completely incompatible. Sure, Boktuo and Oikawa were both outgoing and socially dominant people. But they were worlds different. Oikawa protected himself with masks and mirages. He utilized smirks and snark to deflect from his insecurities. Now that the two had grown close, however, Akaashi saw the Oikawa that was hurting. The Oikawa who was impossibly perceptive and truly caring. The Oikawa who was a total dork. The Oikawa he could call his best friend. They found each other in hurting and so they never had a purpose for masks or falsehoods. Bokuto, however, never feared to speak exactly what was on his mind. Everything about him was etched in authenticity. Neither were better or worse. Just different.

Akaashi often felt guilt. Because he fell off the face of the earth and five months later opened the door to Oikawa and let him inside. Akaashi was the reason Oikawa had escaped everything of the past. Whenever he would voice this guilt, however, Oikawa would shut it down immediately.

“It was my choice to leave.” He would say. “If I didn’t run to you, I would’ve been alone.”

Maybe that was true.

Akaashi slipped out of the attic and pursued the living room. There he found his mother, typing away at her laptop. She would always work late; that didn’t change. He sat down on the opposite end of his couch. He then realized how obviously isolating this was and scooted closer.

Akaashi’s mother finished the sentence she was writing before shutting the laptop and pulling off her reading glasses. Her long, slim fingers rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

Akaashi wondered what they would talk about. They had already discussed the funeral and seeing the others earlier that day. Now Akaashi wondered if it was normal to be so analytical with mother-son conversations.

“I’m really glad you have Oikawa” She finally broke the ice. “He kept you safe. I’m really glad you’re safe. I was- am worried about.”

“I’m sorry, mom.” Akaashi limply dropped his head into his mother’s lap. She began carding her fingers through his hair like she had done so many times growing up. He missed this.

His mother remained quiet, obviously expecting a little more detailed explanation.

“I just… felt so lost. I didn’t want to cut you away.” This sucked. This sucked so much. He hates this but his mom needed to hear how sorry he was.

She smiled softly tho, continued to rub circles into Keiji’s scalp. “That’s the thing about being a mom, though.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss into his temple.”I’ll always be here for you to come back to.”

A tear slipped out of Akaashi’s cheek. This made three times today. One time would have been a record. Akaashi’s mother wiped it away with her thumb. Crying was okay when your mother was there to comfort you.

Just like that, the two had fixed the roadblock stopping them from being mother and son. They talked for an hour. Neither caring about how tired they felt.

Akaashi began talking about his years in college, finally able to expand beyond the texts of “it’s going good.” He then told her about his job as a manga editor even though he wanted to work in literature. She seemed delighted as he rambled through every detail of the process. The frustrations and fun and everything in between.

Finally, after a particularly vigorous yawn, Akaashi’s realized just how tired he had become. He and his mother hugged for an especially long amount of time, to make up for the years they’d gone without them. Akaashi kissed his mother on the cheek and retreated back to the attic.

Oikawa was still asleep when Akaashi returned, but he had changed positions on the couch to a more comfortable one. Despite his exhaustion, Akaashi wasn’t quite ready to go to bed. He hadn’t truly had time alone to reflect on things. So he slipped out the window, planting himself on the roof’s rough shingles. He had spent countless nights on this roof in the weeks leading up to his escape. It was a place diametrically opposed to the empty cabinet in his apartment. Akaashi can’t quite articulate why, though. Not at this moment, staring up at the stars.

He doesn’t know if he expected some sort of revelation in returning to this spot on the roof. Was he supposed to connect with his past self and right all the wrongs? If that was his hope, it certainly remained unfulfilled. The stars were pretty. Cool.

He decided just to slip back into the attic and his futon. He fell asleep too fast for any major realizations to catch up to him.

Oikawa was still asleep when Akaashi awoke the next morning. Bokuto had texted him to meet him at nine o’clock at a new coffee shop. Well, it was new to Akaashi, being built two years prior.

Waiting in the parking lot was not quite as nerve wracking as Akaashi expected it to be. Although, it made sense as he had not fully woken up yet. He texted Bokuto that he arrived and was waiting in his car. Not even a minute later, Bokuto ’s car pulled into the spot right next to his. Bokuto looked so ecstatic to see Akaashi, eagerly waving at the boy from his car.

Akaashi braced himself for Bokuto’s crushing hug. “Hello, Boktuto. Oof.”

Bokuto quickly lightened up, but didn’t let go. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to squeeze so tight! Are you ok?”

Akaashi simply chuckled at the other man. “Yes, I’m good. I like your hugs.” And it wasn’t a lie. He’d always found it difficult to initiate or take part in physical contact, but Bokuto was… different.

Bokuto preened at Akaashi’s admission. His smile made the other man forget it was currently a particularly chilly November. It held the sun directly to his face and flowers could bloom right where they stood.

The coffee shop was modern and sleek. The tables and furniture were all minimalistic, smooth edges and surfaces coated in dark, brown paint. The two journeyed across the glossy, hardwood floor to the counter, where a tired looking barista greeted them to take their orders. Bokuto ordered first, getting a mocha slide, Akaashi recognized the drink as the spiky-haired boy’s favorite. Akaashi planned on just getting black coffee, but a quick glance at the menu drew his attention to blueberry tea.

Drinks in hand, the two sat at an empty table. The chatter remained rather idle, simply catching each other up on the changes in their lives. Akaashi learned that Bokuto was a volleyball coach for children. He thought about how perfect that job was for him, remembering all the times he had displayed his aptitude for interacting with kids. Bokuto seemed really happy about his job, paddling on about how much they looked up to him and how much he enjoyed working.

Two customers spoke idly behind Akaashi, waiting in line to order. They were probably just taking part in small talk, but it wasn’t the content that put Akaashi on edge. It was the fact that there were voices behind him and he couldn’t see them and he wondered if the lights in the shop had dimmed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Akaashi spoke in a hushed voiced, leaning into the table. “Could we, maybe, move or something?”

Bokuto made a light noise of questioning, tilting his head in confusion.

“I just… I don’t really like have people behind me. I get a little nervous.”

Bokuto only seemed more confused. He opened his mouth to speak, but Akaashi decided to retract.

“It’s ok. Sorry, I’ll be fine-“

Bokuto shook his head. “No, no! It’s ok! Yeah, why don’t we go out to my car and chat?”

Akaashi calmed down at this. “That…. sounds a lot better actually.”

Bokuto’s car was surprisingly well kept. Akaashi didn’t know what he expected, while Bokuto may not have changed much, they both had matured in the past 5 years. Bokuto pulled out of the parking lot, deciding the two should go for a drive. Akaashi bit his lip, realizing this meant he had no escape. Unless he wanted to Ladybird it and jump out of the car. He was cut out of this thought by the man’s voice.

“You and Oikawa have gotten really close.” He said, unassuming.

Akaashi smiled lightly. “Yeah. He’s a good person. I’m glad to have had him.”

Boktuo hummed lightly, eyes trained to the road. “I wouldn’t have expected you two to be so compatible. But then again, most people wouldn’t expect us to be.”

Akaashi chuckled dryly, but did not respond.

“I guess I didn’t know him that long. We were only on a team together for a short while before… but he was really talented. And now you and him are….” The end of his sentence trailed off, in a questioning tone.

Akaashi realized what Bokuto was implying and began to laugh, fully. “Oh, god no. Just friends. Oikawa’s an amazing person, but… yeah that wouldn’t work… in a million years.”

If he had noticed the satisfied smile that found its way onto Bokuto’s lips, Akaashi did not comment on it.

Bokuto realized the face he was making, switching it to a smirk and turning to Akaashi. “That’s fair. Him and Iwaizumi totally had a thing for each other.”

Akaashi’s voice came out high-pitched. “Oh my god, right?” The two laughed. Akaashi took a minute to sober up. “How’s he doing? Iwaizumi.”

This caused Bokuto to sober up, slightly. Not grin, but simply more thoughtful. “He… couldn’t continue Volleyball after our first season. But we still talk all the time. He’s actually a lab tech for some…. some, uh…” Bokuto scratched his head. “Ok, actually I don’t really know what he does, but he got his degree in biochemistry.”

Akaashi hummed, impressed by this man he’d never actually met. He had only heard about him from Oikawa. Changing the subject, Akaashi turned to the road.

“Hey, where are we going anyway?”

Bokuto’s face molded into a devious grin. “You’ll see…”

Akaashi grimaced. “Bokuto, I don’t like surprises.”

Bokuto simply chuckled, unflinching. After a few minutes of light comments and nervous glares, the two pulled into a familiar parking lot.

Familiar because it was that of Fukurodani High School. Their old high school.

And, suddenly, Akaashi’s lungs shrank to half their size.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! working on chapter 4!!  
> comments and kudos are always appreciated :) <3


	4. Shh!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your eyes are still the same.” His voice rang, soft and smooth. “Not that you’ve changed all that much. You’re still the same Akaashi that I know” and love. and love. and love. “But your eyes. They’re still exactly the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I could do a chapter a day... lmao  
> I apologize for how long this chapter took, I had a crazy week, but now I should be back on track for quick updates.
> 
> Anyway! Please enjoy :)

T R A C K 4  
…Shh!…

A half-full, plastic cup hung loosely from Akaashi’s fingers. The 18-year-old stood in the buzzing kitchen, idly swaying. Without Bokuto here, his senses felt overwhelmed. Bokuto was a bright beacon to draw his focus away from the sensory overload of the world.

A large hand tapped Akaashi’s right shoulder. The boy sloppily turned to face the stranger drawing his attention.

Looking back, he wishes he had noticed the other stranger simultaneously passing by his left.  
Looking back, he wishes he had remembered the strangers’ faces.  
Looking back, he wishes those faces weren’t just formless blurs.

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

“…- being here.”

Akaashi hadn’t realized someone was talking until the voice reached the end of their sentence.

Oh yeah.

He was in a car. A car parked in his old high school parking lot. He was in a car with Bokuto, whom he hadn’t seen in five years.

Breathing was a struggle for Akaashi. In fact, moving or thinking clearly was a struggle. Bokuto timidly placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. Akaashi began to regain his breath. Still feeling the wave of anxiety overtaking him, he decided to lift his hand, balled into a fist, up to the other man.

“Bokuto, could you… hold onto my fist?” He flushed with embarrassment.

Bokuto wrapped his large hand around Akaashi’s fist. There was no hesitation or questioning. Akaashi allowed his eyes too close. The feeling that washed over him was not unlike circulation returning to a limb, tingling with rest. Akaashi felt himself become present in the universe. Like he was actually there in that car and not a spectator from a million galaxies away.

“I’m sorry, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto apologized timidly. “I thought you would like to see the old school. We can leave.”

Akaashi felt his breath even out enough to shake his head. “It’s ok. I… I do. I’m glad you took me here. Thank you.”

The two sat like this until Akaashi felt confident enough to move.

The school was exactly as it was when Akaashi had graduated. It was a paradox of familiar and foreign. Walking through the halls felt like living through a memory. Every inch of the school was committed to Akaashi’s memory from years traversing the campus, but it didn’t feel like he was really here. He never thought he would be back to this place. He was disrupting the flow of the universe. He was not meant to be in this place at this time and thus it didn’t feel real. Any minute now, the mirage would fade and he would be in his empty kitchen cabinet, insignificance weighing on him.

He had to remind himself that this was real. This was familiar.

Neither Bokuto nor Akaashi acknowledged the two’s hands intertwined. Yes. Akaashi was here and real and this event was significant.

Akaashi let himself chuckle at the chemistry lab, remembering hours spent fumbling with titration pipes. He let himself smile fondly at the library, where he spent lunch periods reading. He let himself listen intently to Bokuto’s ramblings about their past.

Akaashi halted outside the doors to the volleyball court. Bokuto turned to the man, head tilted in confusion. This was the place they were really here to see. It was the place they spent, by far, the most time in. It was the place their connection began.

Akaashi’s voice quivered. “I don’t think I can go in.”

Silence spread between the two. Bokuto nodded lightly. As easy as that, they didn’t enter the gym. Instead, they returned to the car.

The drive home was comfortably quiet. The two processed all that they had just experienced. It should have been odd that no music played from the speakers, but it didn’t. It would have felt obtrusive.

Akaashi considered whether he should feel guilty about not wanting to go to their old court. He didn’t know if it would have broke him or if he would feel nothing. He didn’t know which of those he would prefer. So instead, he left the door to the court closed. In a narrative, this would be a final test to prove that he has healed. At the end of the story, he would return to the court and there would be some dramatic internal monologue about change. This wasn’t that. He wouldn’t go back to the court.

Bokuto finally broke the silence, a subtle smirk on his face. “I may have done a bad thing…”

Akaashi broke away from his thoughts to direct a confused look at the man. “What?” He asked, suspiciously.

“Well… I saw that Oikawa is back… and y’know how I’m friends with Iwaizumi?” Bokuto’s lips pressed together in anticipation of a scolding.

Akaashi’s eyes widened. “…No fucking way.”

He probably should have been upset at Bokuto’s meddling, but to be honest he was hoping the two would reconnect. So instead, Akaashi began to bark laughter. Bokuto joined in, creating a cacophony of giggles in the car.

.. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. -. - / .-.. . - / - .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. .-.-.-

Brown eyes jolted awake as Oikawa felt a pillow slam into his torso.

“Hey, Shittykawa, wake the fuck up and explain your shit.”

The voice above him was terrifyingly familiar. One Oikawa could never forget. Iwaizumi. The man towered above his slumbering frame. His hair was slightly smaller and his shoulders were broader than five years ago. But he was still the Iwaizumi he remembered. His scowling face was certainly identical.

Oikawa sputtered, attempting to make sense of the fact that Iwaizumi was here and there was no escape.

Sensing his confusion, Iwaizumi explained. “Bokuto told me you were here and Akaashi’s mom let me in. She also told me to give you this.”

Oikawa finally noticed the mug of coffee being gripped in Iwaizumi’s tan hands. He decided the best route was to pretend absolutely nothing was wrong with this situation. Grabbing the mug, Oikawa let out a high-pitched squeal. “Awww, Ms. Akaashi is so sweet!”

Oikawa swore Iwaizumi’s eyebrow twitched in rage. “It you aren’t gonna explain why you left me and never spoke to me for 5 years, set the coffee down so I can hit you again with this pillow.” Iwaizumi retrieved the pillow from the floor in preparation.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan!” Using his nickname again was weird. This was weird. “But I guess that’s fair. Let me use the bathroom first, I need to take my morning shit.”

Oikawa pressed off his futon and gently rested his mug on the coffee table in the attic.

Iwaizumi grunted, disgusted. “Didn’t need the info.” He scoffed.

Oikawa trudged out of the attic and down the stairs, leaving Iwaizumi alone in the attic.

.. / ..-. . .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. ..-. / - .... . / ..-. .- -.-. . / --- ..-. / - .... . / . .- .-. - ....

Bokuto’s car pulled back into the parking lot of the coffee shop. He backed into the spot he had parked when they first had arrived.

“You said you were staying a few more days. How much longer will you be here?” Bokuto asked, hopefully.

Akaashi hummed. “I’m taking the whole week off.”

Bokuto couldn’t mask his enthusiasm. “Really? Awesome! Cause I let you off easy today, but I intend to talk through everything.”

Akaashi stared back in shock by this blunt admission of intentions. He supposed he had gotten too used to Oikawa’s layered propositions and motivations. Bokuto was honest about every little thing. It was a beautiful, and dangerous, thing.

Bokuto leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. “But I’ll let you off the hook today if you tell me….” He held this last syllable, considering what he most desired to know.

Akaashi breath hitched, dreading a request for information he was not yet privy to admit. Akaashi was so deep in anticipation, he hadn’t noticed the way Bokuto’s voice trailed off as the man stared deeply into Akaashi’s eyes.

“Your eyes are still the same.” His voice rang, soft and smooth.

Akaashi’s gaze regained focus as Bokuto appeared to be committing every detail to memory. A blush bloomed across his cheeks, embarrassed by the attention.

Bokuto appeared unfazed, the warmest smile Akaashi had ever seen spreading across his face. “Not that you’ve changed all that much. You’re still the same Akaashi that I know” and love. and love. and love. “But your eyes. They’re still exactly the same.”

Suddenly, Akaashi could feel every molecule of his existence. It was the most overwhelming, thrilling, and terrifying sensation and he wanted it to stop. Why was he panicking? It was just one of Bokuto’s genuine, kind comments.

So, why was he opening the car door and shooting off his seat?

Why was he speeding around the front of the car?

Why, when Bokuto stopped to ask him what was wrong, did he respond so coldly?

With an icy tone, Akaashi didn’t dare look Bokuto in the eyes. “I’m here now and maybe for this week but-“

“But then you’re gone again? Just like that?” Bokuto’s voice was an angered yell.

Akaashi felt himself shrink, but he maintained whatever semblance of false composure he could. “Bokuto, please calm down.”

Bokuto’s voice was raspy and desperate. “And let you leave? I can’t do that, Akaashi.”

Akaashi felt a tear prick at the surface of his eye, threatening to fall. He had let his roots get too acquainted with this familiar soil. He had to yank them out fast. He spoke, voice almost silent.

“I can’t do this.” Akaashi attempted to cross past Bokuto, but the taller man prevented it.

“You don’t want to do this.” Bokuto held onto Akaashi, terrified of the man leaving forever.

Akaashi pried himself away from his grasp.

Bokuto continued, attempting to say something that would make Akaashi stay. “Because doing this means you have to confront why you left in the first place.”

Akaashi did not stop. He continued toward his car.

In a last-ditch effort to stop Akaashi, Bokuto reached out and wrapped his hand around Akaashi’s bicep.

The next second went by faster than Bokuto could process. Akaashi collapsed to the ground, eyes wide and breath panicked. He shook violently, unable to get ahold of reality, glancing around him in a flurry of distress. Like the flip of a switch, he was no longer in a parking lot. He was in the upstairs of some high-schooler he doesn’t remember. He was a scared, helpless, 18-year-old boy learning never to feel safe again.

Bokuto’s voice sounded as though it was under water. He could decipher them as exasperated yells, but nothing more. As hands gently shook his shoulders, Akaashi began to feel the sensation of pavement under his hands. And just like that, he was back. He was on the ground of a parking lot, snot and tears pouring down his face. Stomach knotted, any moment from disposing of its contents.

Bokuto kneeled in front of him, looking more scared than Akaashi had ever seen him. Akaashi looked so weak. A small, trembling figure curled in on itself. 

Bokuto’s voice came out strained, uncertain of the right thing to say or do. “I… I didn’t know-“

“I have to go.” Akaashi pushed himself off the ground, wiping his face of the sleeve of his sweater. Bokuto stood up, but made no attempt to stop the boy.

He simply let out a whimper. “Akaashi, please. I can’t lose you. I know you’re hurting. I… I’m sorry I made you go through that.”

Akaashi hesitated, leaning against the open door of his car. Part of him wanted to be pulled into one of Bokuto’s tight, bear hugs. He wanted to tell the man that it was ok. That he had these episodes all of the time. But another part of him knows that these things only make leaving harder.

Instead, he meagerly whispered, “It’s ok.” Akaashi slipped into his car and drove away from the coffee shop.

He didn’t look back at the man, standing in the parking lot looking like a lost, little boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings! I found myself crying a little while writing that last section. I hope even a little of the feelings I felt were showing through.
> 
> I hope this is readable. If you enjoyed it, comments and kudos are soooo appreciated. They really do motivate me to continue!
> 
> I'm super duper excited about the next chapter!!! Hoping it'll come soon!
> 
> Thanks! <3


	5. The Universe is Going to Catch You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa turned back to the sky. “It’s been five years.” He seemed to unconsciously say.
> 
> His mind was reeling with this obvious realization of five years. Five years of no birthday parties. Five years of no movie nights. Five years of no goofing off. Five years of no them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another chapter on the same day? Crazy!
> 
> I was so excited about writing this chapter that I decided to get a head start on it... and then I didn't stop so it's finished. Get ready for the super-mega-Oikawa-special!
> 
> I tried to beta read it but my brain is kinda jumbled so it may be janky... I'll go back tomorrow to beta.
> 
> Anyway, I need to note that this chapter has one brief mention of suicidal thoughts. Please be careful and stay safe if you are susceptible to this! Love you all! Enjoy <3

T R A C K 5  
…TheUniverseIsGoingToCatchYou…

Bokuto fastened his belt as he exited the bathroom, quickly being replaced by another antsy party-goer. He shuffled between drunken teenagers, barely managing to remain balanced. Finally breaking through to the kitchen, his eyes, drooping with intoxication, scanned for messy, raven hair.

After countless scans without finding his target, Bokuto decided to begin asking occupants of his whereabouts. He wondered if his sentences were not being articulated correctly, as most simply gave him an incredulous stare in response.

“Oh, yeah. I think I saw Akaashi go upstairs with two other dudes.” One of their classmates had said, obviously stoned. “Maybe they were going to the bathroom? The line upstairs is shorter.”

Bokuto decided to go along with this conclusion, hanging around the kitchen, awaiting the boy’s return. He almost poured himself another drink, but his drunken swaying persuaded him against it.

After a couple minutes passed, Bokuto figured it had been too long for a simple bathroom trip. He weaved around dancing teenagers, attempting to navigate his way to the staircase.

Coincidentally, Bokuto bumped into Akaashi as the raven-haired boy trudged down the stairs. If Bokuto had been sober, he would have taken note of Akaashi’s state. The boy was a complete mess: clothes and hair disheveled, cheeks tear-stained, legs trembling.

But he was plastered. So none of these details processed in his foggy mind. Instead he gave the boy a hearty smile. “Hey, ‘Kaashi! I was lookin’ for you.”

“I need to leave.” Akaashi murmured.

Bokuto hiccuped, resting his hands on Akaashi’s shoulders. Geez they were shaking. “What? No, you can’t go! Why? What’s wrong?”

Akaashi slid the boy’s hands off of him, eyes trained to the floor. “Please, Bokuto. I just… I’m not having fun and I want to leave.”

“Oh come on, we’ll-“

Akaashi did not let Bokuto finish pleading, pushing past the boy and out the front door.

Bokuto grunted, angrily. His drunken brain leaped past logical processing of the situation, instead landing on conclusions of frustration. Frustrated that Akaashi hadn’t even tried to enjoy the party. Frustrated that he had just left without him. This frustration dissuaded him from chasing after Akaashi. So instead he stayed for the party, attempting to forget his anger.

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

Iwaizumi stood by the window of the attic. Mindlessly glancing at the lawn. To be honest, he was incredibly nervous about being here. He had thought about Oikawa so much the past five years. Now that this was real and he was finally committed to getting closure, he was terrified.

The black-haired man was pulled from his thoughts at the sight of Oikawa, sneaking out the front door of the house. “Motherfucker.” He whispered to himself, dashing down the stairs of the attic to reach the front door.

Oikawa yelped at the sound of the front door being flung open. The tall brunette quickly breaking into a spring across the front lawn. His knee immediately protested the sudden demand of activity, causing Iwaizumi to catch up quickly.

Iwaizumi tackled Oikawa to the lawn, limbs sprawling out across blades of grass. Oikawa squealed in protest, but Iwaizumi flipped him over so they were staring directly at each other.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you trying to escape me? Did I do something wrong or-“

“Why don’t you hate me?” Oikawa practically screamed, voices slashing through the man looming over him.

Iwaizumi loosened his grasp, shock written on his face. Oikawa took this opportunity to shove the man off of him, curling in on himself.

Iwaizumi leaned back against his hands, shock turning to remorse. “How could I hate you?”

-.-. --- -- . / .-- .. - .... / -- .

The gym air was humid from activity, although the temperature had cooled down considerably; the only remaining occupants being Oikawa and Iwaizumi. This was a typical night for the two. Iwaizumi resting on the floor, flipping through his phone as Oikawa practiced serving long after practice had ended. Iwaizumi never agreed with this habit of Oikawa’s, but he always stayed to keep the man company.

Iwaizumi glanced at the brunette, whom was preparing to serve once again. He had been at this for two hours. Oikawa curled his right leg up, heel pressing against the back of his thigh. It was a quick, insignificant action, but Iwaizumi picked up on it immediately.

“Is your knee bothering you?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa stood still for a moment, likely cursing at Iwaizumi for being a perceptive asshole. He turned with a wide, fake grin. “No, of course not! I’m as good as ever, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi huffed, but let it slide. “Please be careful.” He muttered, returning his focus to his phone.

Oikawa tossed the volleyball into the air, then began his three-step approach. As he bended to leap into the air, something in his knee snapped. A flurry of emotions and thoughts frenzied his frazzled mind in that one moment.

Fuck.

This hurts a lot.

I shouldn’t have pushed it after it was already hurting.

This really fucking hurts.

What if I can’t play?

Oikawa landed on the gym floor with a pathetic plop. His body collapsed against the hardwood floor as he squeezed his eyes shut. There was a heart wrenching scream that he didn’t recognize as his own.

Iwaizumi was at Oikawa’s side in an instant. Gently placing a hand on the side of his face to comfort him. Iwaizumi always knew something like this was a possibility. He knew he couldn’t stop Oikawa from pushing his limits, so instead he was always prepared for the worst. Now that he had to put this preparation to use, he felt utterly helpless.

He could do everything to make it better, but nothing would change the fact that his best friend was lying on the gym floor in agonizing pain. He couldn’t make this a false reality. So instead he just calmly pressed forward. He began by cautiously removing Oikawa’s right kneepad to get a better look at the injury.

His face reactively paled.

“It’s gonna be okay, Oikawa.” He whispered a lie. He knew better. This was totally, completely not okay. It looked worse than expected, already turning a sickening shade of purple.

Something in Oikawa knew that this was it. This was a moment of significant change because he would never play volleyball again.

Oikawa hadn’t realized he passed out until he woke up in the hospital. He woke up to a new reality in which all his worst fears were confirmed. The doctor looked frank and unapologetic when he told him any intensive, physical activity would be out of question.

Oikawa did not react. He is left alone in the room, feeling like a lost, little boy. He remains still for hours. It was impossible to process. He would never play volleyball again. Oikawa had lost all of his value. Because without volleyball, what did he have? He had spent his entire life putting everything into this one thing. And now it was gone. He felt like he was nothing of a person. He thought about how he had always been heralded for his skill in volleyball. How, when his parents bragged about him, they would always brag about volleyball. Now what? What did he have that was noteworthy.

Just as his future of volleyball had vanished from the universe, Oikawa thought he was meant to as well.

When Iwaizumi entered the hospital room, Oikawa didn’t acknowledge him. Iwaizumi scooted a chair up next to the bed. He sat down, attempting to find the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa.” He decided to start with. He knew it was no reprieve from the hell Oikawa must have been going through, but it felt obligatory to say. “I… I don’t know the thing to say that will make this better. We’re gonna be okay though. I’m quitting volleyball too, though, so we’ll have lots of time to spend together.”

This was what broke Oikawa out of his trance. His voice carried force, cracking through the air like a whip. “What?”

Iwaizumi realized he had stepped on a landmine, so he attempted to redirect into a more casual tone. “Well, volleyball wouldn’t be any fun without your dumbass. Hitting someone else’s tosses would be so lame.” His smile was small and sickly, a mere suggestion to be more lighthearted. It fell on deaf ears.

Oikawa was fuming. “Are you fucking serious? Is that supposed to make me feel better? You quitting?”

“I- I’m not doing it to make you feel better.” Iwaizumi sputtered.

“Get out.” Oikawa shot, coldly.

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrowed with pity. “… Oikawa-“

“I am not being the reason you quit!” Each word was forced out, like a flurry of punches. “Get the fuck out.” His rage was quiet, far scarier than unbridled.

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa like a kicked puppy.

Oikawa glared back, the two silently staring before Oikawa finally broke into a waterfall of sobs. “Please,” he cried. “Just leave.”

Iwaizumi did not leave. He stood from his chair and scooped the boy up into a tight embrace.

Oikawa began to thrash in his arms, “Stop!” He screamed. “Iwa, stop!”

Iwaizumi held Oikawa close through every shriek. He bit his lower lip as tears of his own poured from his eyes. Eventually, Oikawa calmed in the man’s arms, realizing he was not going to escape the embrace. He was reduced to a limp, whimpering pile. It was the most pitiful sight.

After a few minutes of this, Iwaizumi spoke quietly. “I’ll leave you be. But only so you can rest. I’ll see you when you get out, Oikawa. I’m not going to leave you.”

Oikawa stared blankly at the white wall opposite his bed. He only heard Iwaizumi trudge out of the hospital room.

Without the ability to play volleyball, Oikawa lost his scholarship. His continued attendance was possible, but he decided it was too much a financial strain. So there he was: a drop out. He spent the next weeks recovering at home.

Oikawa laid on the couch all day, gaze transfixed on the ceiling, so incredibly numb. Others had attempted to stop by, but Oikawa made his mother promise not to allow anyone to come inside and see him. He couldn’t pretend to be okay. He knew people were talking. Word travels fast when the upcoming star setter is suddenly never going to play again and drops out of college.

He had told his parents he would enroll in another college come spring, but he wasn’t certain he would be alive that long. He never directly thought of ending his life, but the idea of continuing like this felt impossible. How can you live when you feel like you’ve lost all of who you once were?

Then he received the text. It was from an unknown number, but the person began by introducing themself as Keiji Akaashi. Oikawa recognized the name as one of the volleyball players from Tokyo. The two had never formally met in a match, but were well aware of each other’s existence. 

What intrigued Oikawa, however, was the note at the bottom of the message.

“ I fell off the face earth. Come with me. “

It was… strange. Certainly an odd thing to text a relative stranger. But, somehow, it was exactly what he needed to hear. And, just like that, he was gone. Moving in with Akaashi, a man who was also running. Oikawa told things to Akaashi that he had never even thought of telling anyone. And the same was reciprocated. The two had no reason for lies. No reason for pretending things were okay.

Come spring, Oikawa enrolled into the same university as Akaashi. He put all of his energy into class, working hard so he could graduate on time, despite missing a semester. Oikawa, as it turns out, was incredibly intelligent. He graduated top of his class in sports medicine.

The two protected each other from being swallowed by the vast expanse of the universe and its ability to render everything in one’s life insignificant. They were hurting. But they had each other.

-.-. --- -- . / .-- .. - .... / -- .

“How could I hate you?” The question hung heavy in the air between them.

In that moment, everything had come flooding back from five years ago. Oikawa broke down, curled up on the lawn.

Tears strode down freckled cheeks, as Oikawa spoke wetly. “I always thought if I wasn’t the best at what I did, then I was a failure. And so yeah, when I couldn’t play volleyball, realized I was nothing.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to interrupt, but Oikawa silenced him.

“Let me finish.” He took a breath. “You know what the first thing I thought when I learned I couldn’t play anymore was? It was ‘Iwa’s gonna forget about me.’ That’s how I knew that I… loved you.”

Iwaizumi stared in shock at the admission. “Y-you…?”

“And when you told me you were going to quit volleyball, I figured you would only resent me for it. It would’ve hurt too much for you to grow away from me.” Oikawa wiped the tears from his face. “So, instead, I cut everything off. Including you. So nobody could reject me for being less than I once was.”

Now Oikawa collapsed back on the lawn, body unceremoniously splayed out. Iwaizumi copied this action, laying next to him. Oikawa felt so much lighter being able to tell him that.

Iwaizumi stared up at the cloudy sky above them. “I didn’t love you because of volleyball, idiot. I love you because you’re Oikawa.”

Oikawa turned towards the other man, wondering if he had heard him correctly. “You…?”

Iwaizumi chuckled, eyes squinting from his smile. “Yes. I love you. I love you so fucking much. Even now now. Five goddamn years later.”

Oikawa turned back to the sky. “It’s been five years.” He seemed to unconsciously say.

His mind was reeling with this obvious realization of five years. Five years of no birthday parties. Five years of no movie nights. Five years of no goofing off. Five years of no them.

Oikawa’s wails pierced the air. Iwaizumi’s heart clenched at the sound, wrapping his arm around the sobbing man, pulling him into his chest and wrapping his other hand around the back of his head. Shaky tears began to break out of his own eyes.

“I’m sorry I left you.” Oikawa sniffled.

Iwaizumi comforted the man. “It’s okay. We’re here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

And this is how they were.

In a way, the universe had finally caught Oikawa. After all the running. After all the masks. After all the lies to himself. He now felt his presence in the context of the universe. How tiny he truly was in the grand scheme of it. But this thought did not bring him the dread he figured it would. It was liberating. He reveled in being a part of the universe, sprawled out on the lawn of his friend’s mother’s with a man he had always loved. What a strange thing.

Akaashi pulled into the driveway to see the two laying out on the lawn in a pile. He did not register the two, however. He was trapped within his own mind. He made intentional strides into the house and up to the attic.

The universe was disruptive and truly impossible to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yehaw! Thanks for reading! Hopefully the next chapter will come quick too ;)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, comments and kudos are mega appreciated!!
> 
> Listening to the album while writing this has been fun, it's such a good album :S  
> This chapter in particular really took inspiration from the song it's based on.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!!!


	6. The Carrying Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi attempted to catch his breath, but the task seemed impossible. His voice came out panicked and exhausted. “I-… I don’t know how to tell you.”
> 
> Bokuto seemed confused, but comforted the man, nonetheless. “You don’t have to-“
> 
> “I want to. I want to tell you and fix things.” Akaashi struggled to vocalize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the home stretch!
> 
> This is where discussions of trauma get more serious, so please be careful! Again, nothing explicit is stated but it's definitely clear in this chapter.
> 
> I've been really enjoying writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it! :)
> 
> Thank you~

T R A C K 6  
…TheCarryingArms…

Two figures snuck out of the bedroom, leaving Akaashi alone in the dark unfamiliarity. He was splayed out of the carpeted floor in complete disarray. He didn’t bother rebutting his shirt as he pulled his sweater back on, collar wider from tugging. Sliding his jeans back up his waist, Akaashi attempted to stand. The shifting of his body alongside the exertion of this motion cause his stomach to twist painfully. He quickly crawled across the room to a trashcan sitting in the corner of the room. Snot dripped from his nose as he emptied his stomach into the grey bin.

After squatting over the trashcan, heaving, for what felt like hours, Akaashi managed to pull himself up and exit the door. He was completely dazed, but thankfully the upstairs was not as densely packed as the main floor. Despite his foggy mind, he felt far too sober as he trudged down the staircase. He almost bumped into Boktuo, whom was making his way up the same steps.

“Hey, ‘Kaashi! I was lookin’ for you.” Bokuto spoke with a wide, sloppy grin.

Akaashi didn’t know what to say. Should he tell him? No. But he couldn’t stay in this damn house any longer.

“I need to leave.” Akaashi murmured.

Bokuto looked put down, oblivious to the hell Akaashi had just experienced. He placed his hands on Akaashi’s trembling shoulders. “What? No, you can’t go! Why? What’s wrong?”

Akaashi felt tears prick at the surface of his eyes. “Please, Bokuto. I just… I’m not having fun and I want to leave.”

“Oh come on, we’ll-“

Akaashi couldn’t manage another second of this. The two were having completely different conversations, without Bokuto realizing it. So Akaashi pushed past his drunken friend and slid out the front door of the house.

The cold air was a mild reprieve for Akaashi, feeling frosty air chill his crawling skin. He sprinted the entire way to Bokuto’s house. He did not stop until he was seated in his car, preparing to drive home. Everything that had just happened caught up to Akaashi in that moment. Painful sobs broke through the silent night air. Despite the crowded nature of the party, Akaashi had been alone the second Bokuto had left him.

That night two men he holds no recollection of dislodged Akaashi from the universe. From then on, he would forever live adjacent to it.

\- .... . / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .-- .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-

Iwaizumi pulled the two into a sitting position on the lawn. He wiped at Oikawa’s cheeks softly with his thumb, giving the man a sad smile.

“I think he needs your help now.” He spoke quietly. “I’m gonna go get some coffee because it was a long drive to get here this morning.”

Oikawa nodded, grabbing onto Iwaizumi’s hands to pull himself up. He pulled the olive-green eyed man into a short embrace, before setting off to the attic, where Akaashi inevitably was.

When he finally reached the attic, Akaashi was nowhere to be seen. He stepped into the middle of the room, making sure he didn’t miss the raven-haired man. Upon glancing out the window, he figured out why he was seemingly missing. Akaashi was perched on a small patch of roof from outside the attic window.

Shaking his head, Oikawa pushed the window open. Akaashi did not react to the sound, likely expecting Oikawa to chase after him. The brunette gritted his teeth as he cautiously stepped out onto the coarse shingles.

“If I fall and die, I’m haunting your ass.” He snidely joked.

Akaashi exhaled through his nose, amused.

As Oikawa scooted down to sit beside the other man, Akaashi held his fist out to him. Oikawa grasped it without hesitation.

A hushed whisper escaped Akaashi’s lips. “I think I made a mistake in coming back.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow. He wanted to tell the other man he was wrong. That coming back was the best decision they had ever made. That they needed to heal.

But that wasn’t a reply Akaashi would be perceptive to. “Why do you say that?” He asked instead.

Akaashi thought for a moment, thinking of how best to articulate his justification. “I tried to make things better. But it hurts so much. I think it’s too late to fix things.”

Oikawa bit his lip. Against his better judgement, he decided not to remain so passive in Akaashi’s assessment. “It’s going to hurt. That’s what healing is.”

“And what would you know about it.” Akaashi shot with a glare.

Annoyance pricked at Oikawa, but he understood Akaashi was in a heightened state of emotions, so he attempted to deescalate. “I just went through a lot of pain with Iwa. But I know that things are getting better. That’s the thing about healing from deep wounds.”

Akaashi scoffed, turning his body to face Oikawa. “That’s your pain. Not mine.” His anger continued to crescendo. “So, what now? Huh? Are you gonna start resenting me for asking you to run away?”

Oikawa’s voice raised, beginning to match Akaashi’s rage. “What are you talking about? You know I’d never do that.” He took a quick breath, attempting to change tone. “We were both hurting and we both ran. But now I think it’s time that we both heal. I’m not abandoning you. You are my best friend, Akaashi.”

Akaashi stared back at the brunette for a moment, before shifting his gaze to the sky, appearing considerably less angered.

Oikawa’s stare remain fixed on Akaashi. “I still remember what you told me when I asked you why you reached out to me five years ago.” Akaashi glanced down to his feet, knowing. “You told me that you were lonely, but being with people who didn’t understand would be even lonelier. Thought, ’this guy gets it.’ You can be with a million people, but if they don’t understand you, it’s even lonelier than if they weren’t there at all. But we understand each other, Aka-chan. That’s never going to change.”

A minute passed in silence. The two simply scanned the grey sky, leaning back against the roof. Finally, Akaashi spoke. “I know you’re right and it pisses me off.”

Oikawa chuckled, pulling the other man into a tight embrace. Well, the best hug possible considering the fact that they were both sitting on a forty-five degree angle.

As the two separated, Oikawa rested both of his hands on Akaashi’s shoulders. “I’ll leave you be alone out here. As long as you promise to stay safe, Aka-chan.”

“Yes mom.” Akaashi replied, snakily.

Oikawa swatted at the man, “Watch it!”

Akaashi remained on that roof another hour. At one point he watched Iwaizumi pull up in his car, Oikawa hopping inside before the two drove off.

Finally, he decided to call Bokuto. The white-and-black-haired man’s voice was gravely over the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Bo… I’m… I’m sorry about earlier. I can’t promise that I won’t fuck up, but I want to heal. And I don’t want to lose you.”

The line was silent for a moment, before the enthusiastic voice of his old friend rang out. “Really? D-did you wanna come to my apartment? That way if you get uncomfortable you can just leave whenever.”

Akaashi smiled lightly. “Sure. I can pick up dinner for us later. You still have the same take out order?”

He could practically hear Bokuto’s grin over the phone. “You know it!”

If it hadn’t been for her drastically different haircut, Akaashi might have thought he had entered a time machine to the past upon entering his old favorite take-out restaurant to see none other than Yuki Shirofuku. He remembered how often he had gotten take-out from his old classmate in high school. The restaurant was owned by her family, so her working there was natural. Seeing her now came as quite a shock.

“Akaashi? Holy sh- er, crap! It’s been so long. Where the hell have you been?” Yuki looked as though she wanted to leap across the counter and wrap Akaashi into a huge bear hug.

Akaashi didn’t feel quite as on edge upon seeing his past team manager as he may have expected. The two had never been the closest, so she may not have even been aware of his sudden disappearance. This was a small comfort. It was just like two classmates reconnecting with no painful subtext lingering between them.

He gave her a warm smile, “I kinda moved away after graduation.” He figured it wasn’t a lie. Just a palatable version of the truth. “But here I am. What’s new with you, Yukie?”

“Well, to calm your worries, I’m not doing this full time. I’m actually in med school now, so I’m helping out around here when I can.” Yukie grinned widely.

The door jingled, alerting the two to another customer entering the establishment. Akaashi did not want to hold them up, so he quickly listed his order off.

Yukie looked at him with a sly smirk as she typed out the order. “This is exactly what you and Boktuo used to get every time you came here.” She paused for a moment, gazing questioningly at the raven-haired man. “Are you two still…?”

Akaashi nodded. “We’ve… reconnected.”

“That’s awesome.” Yukie’s smile was so genuine it made Akaashi’s heart lurch. “I’ll have this right out for you, Akaashi.”

Akaashi slid into an empty booth as he waited for his order. He lazily peered at the fish tank. It was in the same place as the one that had been there before, but it was certainly a newer model.

He found it pleasant to not be berated with invasive questions; just being met with overwhelming positivity at his return. Things were familiar and things have changed and that didn’t scare or hurt him.

.. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. -. - / .-.. . - / - .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -.

Bokuto’s apartment epitomized the man’s essence. None of the furnishing quite matched or made sense in a greater design context, but it was that aspect that made it so cozy. The two sat on a hideous, lime-green sofa as they ate their take-out. The food acted as a nice buffer from any unsavory topics. Bokuto simply rambled on about coaching volleyball. Every once in a while, he would bring up an old memory from high school causing Akaashi to fight within himself not to go to a dark place with it.

Anxiety filled a pit in Akaashi’s stomach as they finished their meal, as it meant no safety net. He knew what Bokuto wanted to ask so badly. He knew, if he wanted to rebuild this bridge, he’d have to answer that question. 

What happened?

The mere thought of responding to that made him want to leap into one of Bokuto’s kitchen cabinets. But they probably weren’t empty, like his.

As they returned to the couch, a tense layer of silence fell over them, both attempting to navigate whether to say the things they wanted to say. Bokuto was the first one to talk. His voice seemed so small, but it hit Akaashi like a truck.

“Did I hurt you?”

Akaashi stared back, brows furrowed.

Bokuto elaborated, “I mean, is that why you left?”

The raven-haired man did not want to speak. He did not want to breath. But no response would seem like a response, so he shook his head.

“No. No, it wasn’t you.” His breath escaped, shaky.

After mulling this reply over, Bokuto seemed to accept it. “I was so worried it was me. The last time we spoke was at that party.”

And just like that, Akaashi was trapped in a claustrophobic darkness. It constricted his body painfully.

“I need to use the bathroom.” He needed to calm down.

Akaashi stood from the couch, too fast, causing his vision to blur with spots of black. He wasn’t breathing.

His travel to the bathroom was cut short as he succumbed to the faintness, slumping to the floor and leaning back against the wall. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Akaashi hugged his knees to his chest.

Bokuto was by his side in an instant. He did not touch him, however, afraid of putting him into the state he witnessed in the parking lot.

“Hey, ‘Kaashi. What’s going on?”

Akaashi attempted to catch his breath, but the task seemed impossible. His voice came out panicked and exhausted. “I-… I don’t know how to tell you.”

Bokuto seemed confused, but comforted the man, nonetheless. “You don’t have to-“

“I want to. I want to tell you and fix things.” Akaashi struggled to vocalize.

Bokuto was silent, mirroring Akaashi’s posture on the floor as he stared empathetically. “Ok. So take your time and stop as often as you need.”

Akaashi did not look up from the floor, breath finally starting to return.

You can do this. You’ve spent the last five years coming to terms with it. This is the test.

“It was…” Breathe. “It was at the party. When you were gone.” Akaashi felt like he was going to puke.

Bokuto was motionless, but the activity in his mind was nearly audible.

Akaashi pushed on, however. If he stopped now, he’d never get it out.

“There were these two guys. I don’t remember anything about them.” A tear streamed down his face. He felt like he was touching a hot stove. He wanted to stop. “And… they hurt me. A lot.”

It wasn’t the most direct explanation, but it was enough. It was the best he could give and he felt like he had just finished a marathon.

Bokuto seemed to understand Akaashi’s implication, hand covering his mouth. “…Keiji, I-…. I’m so sorry.”

Akaashi shook his head, droplets of tears flinging from his cheeks. “I don’t want you to be sorry. You have no reason to be sorry.”

“But if I hadn’t forced you to come-“

Akaashi interrupted him. Bokuto blaming himself was the worst possible thing that could come of this. “You can’t think like that. Like, ‘if only I didn’t do this.’ Besides, I was hurting for a long time before then. It was just the final push.”

Bokuto looked almost as sick as Akaashi. He didn’t blame him.

Akaashi took a deep breath and continued. “I felt like everything good in my life had an expiration date. Like one day everything would go away. Everyone would realize what a mistake they made and leave me. I couldn’t let that happen. So I… I ran.”

Bokuto looked like a dog hit by a car. Dragging a broken leg back to its family wondering why the world was so cruel.

In the moment the two of their eyes met, Akaashi broke completely. Lunging forward into Bokuto’s arms, he was reduced into a sobbing mess.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, over and over, as Bokuto rubbed soothing circles into his back.

For every misplaced apology, Bokuto returned affirmations. “It’s okay.”

Finally, Akaashi felt himself capable of another phrase. “That was so hard to tell you.” He heaved out between panicked gasps.

Bokuto hugged him tighter. “Shhh, just breathe.” This was repeated over until the storm crashing down on them calmed.

Saying it out loud was the most Akaashi had hurt since that day. That day he had ripped himself from the universe.

But being held in Bokuto’s arms; his voice holding nothing but unconditional love. That was medicine entering his system. It was a fever finally breaking. It was a broken limb, finally ceasing to throb.

.. / ..-. . .-.. - / .-.. .. -.- . / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / --. --- --- -.. / .. -. / -- -.-- / .-.. .. ..-. . / .... .- -.. / .- -. / . -..- .--. .. .-. .- - .. --- -. / -.. .- - . / .-.. .. -.- . / --- -. . / -.. .- -.-- / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / --. --- / .- .-- .- -.-- / . ...- . .-. -.-- --- -. . / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-. . .- .-.. .. --.. . / .-- .... .- - / .- / -- .. ... - .- -.- . / - .... . -.-- / -- .- -.. . / .- -. -.. / .-.. . .- ...- . / -- . / .. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. -. - / .-.. . - / - .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -.

-... ..- - / .. -- / -... .- -.-. -.- / -. --- .--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was obviously a lot, but the angst is now going to be more comfort from here on out.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!
> 
> Also, don't worry, romance is coming. Bokuaka shall sail!!!


	7. In the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s super late, but I just had this dream and I think- I found...” Not only was Akaashi’s voice far more hyper sounding for the time, but he realized he had no idea how to articulate the madness flying through his mind in that moment. “Uhhh, can I come meet you somewhere?”
> 
> The line was silent for a second, but the sound of rustling sheets and straining spring reassured Akaashi. Bokuto’s voice shook off its original drowsiness. “Yeah, sure. I can come over?”
> 
> “No, I want to see you faster.” Akaashi started slipping out of his futon. “Meet me at that playground we used to hang out at after practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo!
> 
> I did not beta read this chapter yet but really wanted to post it before I fell asleep ehehe
> 
> Thank you for following the story up until this point! Please enjoy!

T R A C K 7  
…InTheSnow…

Oikawa lightly kicked Iwaizumi’s ankles under the diner table. They’d talked all day since reconnecting. At first it was a coffee shop, until they felt rude for being there so long. Then it was an arcade that Oikawa had been shocked was still in business, as they had spent many nights there since they were kids. Oikawa thoroughly kicked Iwaizumi’s ass in pretty much every game, just like old times.

And now they were at a diner that must have been built within the past five years, as Oikawa held no recollection of it. Despite it being new, it was modeled after retro diners you’d see in movies from the seventies. Iwaizumi promised the food to be good, so Oikawa let him be dragged inside.

There they were, talking as though they hadn’t been doing just that all day and as though they hadn’t been apart for five, long years.

“Iwa-chan, so mean! My face is not dumb!” Oikawa folded his arms across his chest, indignantly.

Iwaizumi smirked, “I said lovable, dumb face.”

“That’s not better!”

Once calming from giggles, Iwaizumi looked into Oikawa’s eyes, deeply. “I’m glad we did this. I’m glad we’re back.”

“Me too.” Oikawa smiled warmly.

A buzz from his pocket alerted Oikawa of a text notification. He grabbed his phone to silence it, but swiped to his messages when he saw it was from Akaashi.

Long night, but a good one. Bokuto and I will be ok > 19:49

Oikawa smiled at this, before another message popped up.

If you wanted to stay with Iwaizumi for the night I  
don’t mind. I’m pretty drained… might like some  
alone time. > 19:49

19:50 < Ok Aka-chan :) ily <3

… > 19:50  
love you too > 19:50  
or whatever > 19:50

Oikawa chuckled at the message, looking back up to Iwaizumi.

“You know it’s rude to text at the table, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi jokingly sniped.

Oikawa knew it was not a serious critique, but justified himself anyway. “Sorry, it was Akaashi. He’s doing good. I think he and Bokuto figured things out.” His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, “Which got me to thinking….”

“Never a good thing when you do that.” Iwaizumi replied with snark.

Oikawa ignored the comment, aside from sticking his tongue out at the man. He then continued, “I was thinking, since you live pretty far away from here…. I could go with you?”

Iwaizumi put on a show of considering this proposition. “Yeah, whatever. My apartments pretty small, but I think you’ll fit.”

“Yahoo! Thank you, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa squealed like a giddy young child.

\- .... . -.-- / .--. .. -.-. -.- . -.. / -- . / ..- .--. / --- ..-. ..-. / --- ..-. / -- -.-- / ..-. . . - / .- -. -.. / -... .-. --- ..- --. .... - / -- . / ..- .--. / - .... .-. --- ..- --. .... / ... --- .-.. .. -.. / .--. . .- -.-. .

Feeling completely drained, Akaashi slumped back home from his evening with Bokuto. His mother sat on the living room couch, typing what was probably a work email. She glanced over at her son, brows furrowed as a certain tall brunette was not accompanying him.

“Oikawa isn’t with you?” She asked, setting the laptop aside.

Akaashi shook his head, slipping into the room. “No, he reconnected with an old friend as well. He’ll be home for the night.”

“Too?” His mother had caught onto this phrasing. Akaashi felt his face flush slightly.

“Oh yeah… uh, I talked to Bokuto again.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Akaashi’s mother gave him the warmest smile known to man. “Honey, that’s wonderful. You two were always so close.”

He gave a light smile, happy that his mother could see him doing better. The raven-haired man leaned down until his head rested in her lap, just as he had done the night before.

Akaashi did not think he would ever be able to tell his mother exactly what happened those years ago. Your mother is meant to be the person you can tell absolutely anything. This relationship, however, made it far more complicated. He could only imagine the grief felt by the parent of a child who had experienced such things. There’s a feeling of failure involved. That she couldn’t protect her son from the horrors of the world. This, obviously, is not a logical thought process, but things like these tend to be as such. Honestly, he only saw harm in her knowing. Things were simpler to just know that he was struggling with things internally.

It wasn’t untrue.

For now he was simply happy to be comforted by his mother, who loved him. He was happy to show this mother that he was making progress and fixing things. This was good.

Eventually, he hugged his mother, told her he loved her, and retreated to the attic. Sliding into his futon was perhaps the most heavenly feeling. He felt like sleep could grip him instantaneously.

But instead he stared up at the ceiling. The feelings of insignificance and hopelessness returned, but now they felt like memories. Replications of thought and emotions from a past time.

The universe still terrified him. The thought of opening himself up to its insurmountable vastness chilled him to the bone, like standing completely naked in the winter snow.

There was more to this thought: a progression of anxiety. But his eyes drooped closed and his mind shut down before he could finish it.

-.. --- -. - / - .... .-. --- .-- / .- .-- .- -.-- / -- -.-- / -... .-. --- -.- . -. / - . .-.. . ... -.-. --- .--. . ...

He floated aimlessly in the vastness of space. There were no planets in sight. Only stars, light years away, were visible.

He was floating in nothingness, trying to scream but to no avail. Not a whimper could escape his throat.

His mouth felt weird. Really weird.

He reached his fingers inside, feeling around for the cause of the sensation. After a moment of prodding, it became evident he was growing a second row of teeth behind the first.

What a strange thing to dream about.

Oh.

This is a dream. This is just the universe in his head.

This is just the universe in his head.

Just the universe in his head.

With this came a realization. That it wasn’t Akaashi and all of his problems that were insignificant, but rather, it was the universe. Because if he hadn’t given the universe the weight to deem him unimportant, its vastness would never have crossed his mind.

What a strange thing to dream about. What a strange thing.

-.. --- -. - / - .... .-. --- .-- / .- .-- .- -.-- / -- -.-- / -... .-. --- -.- . -. / - . .-.. . ... -.-. --- .--. . ...

Akaashi awoke to the pitch, dark attic. He felt around on the floor, searching for his phone. Once him hands finally found the rectangular object, he turned it on, illuminating the room in light. The numbers 02:46 flashed on the screen, but Akaashi didn’t even think of going back to sleep.

He instead slid up on the screen and pressed on Bokuto’s contact number.

After moments of ringing, a raspy voice sounded over the speakers. “Akaashi?”

“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s super late, but I just had this dream and I think- I found...” Not only was Akaashi’s voice far more hyper sounding for the time, but he realized he had no idea how to articulate the madness flying through his mind in that moment. “Uhhh, can I come meet you somewhere?”

The line was silent for a second, but the sound of rustling sheets and straining spring reassured Akaashi. Bokuto’s voice shook off its original drowsiness. “Yeah, sure. I can come over?”

“No, I want to see you faster.” Akaashi started slipping out of his futon. “Meet me at that playground we used to hang out at after practice.”

Bokuto chuckled over the line. Akaashi heard him sifting through his closet for a shirt to throw on. “Alright, I’m on my way, ‘Kaashi.”

A quick goodbye was whispered before Akaashi hung up and rushed out the door to his car.

When Akaashi arrived at the playground, Bokuto was already slumped in a swing. The volleyball coach was wearing a tee shirt that looked three sizes too large, baggy sweatpants, and flip flops. His hair was a disorganized mess; not like his typically organized mess of a hairstyle.

Akaashi had never seen him look cuter. Plus, he wasn’t dressed much better himself, wearing a faded pink hoodie that was large enough to completely conceal the shorts he was wearing.

Neither were dressed in preparation for the snowy weather. Neither cared.

“Sorry for making you get up so early, Koutarou.” Bokuto looked almost surprised by Akaashi’s use of his first name.

“Of course, Keiji.” He whispered back.

Akaashi stood a few feet away from the swings, snow whirling around him. Bokuto pulled himself off his swing and approached the ethereal looking man.

Akaashi took a deep breath, preparing himself. “When I visited for the funeral, I figured I would realize how far apart I’d detached from everything. This town… You. And I certainly was scared at first. But being with you, Koutarou. Everything is right again. And I think these five years have given me the permission to let go of my fears. That one day everything will go away. Or that nobody will want to deal with my problems because the universe is so so so large and I’m just me. Because who gives a fuck about the universe.” Akaashi found himself grinning as snow rested in his long eyelashes.

He decided in that moment to do something that could only be described as “a Bokuto move.”

He yelled. At the top of his lungs. “I’m gonna be okay!” It was corny and goofy and something he would typically be totally embarrassed to do. It was perfect.

Bokuto joined him in his screams. “I love you, Keiji!” He projected to the universe. It was also corny and good and something he would typically never be embarrassed to do. It was also perfect.

And the universe didn’t descend upon them to correct this indulgent display of selfishness.

As the snow danced to the ground, Akaashi crashed Bokuto’s lips into his. The cold was not a consideration for them any longer. They were warmer than they had ever felt in their lives.

And here it was. On this playground, in the snow, at three in the morning.

Twenty-three-year-old Akaashi kissed someone for the first time. Previously he had avoided intimacy in fear of how it had been tainted by two strangers. But now, he liked to think he was just waiting for this perfect kiss. Anything else being his first kiss would be a disservice.

But he did so much more than just kiss for the first time. He loved someone like this for the first time. He let someone love him like this for the first time.

Fuck the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray!! The ships have sailed!!!!
> 
> In a way this is kind of the finale as chapter 8 sort of serves as a "wrap up"
> 
> I'm really sad to have it come to an end!
> 
> Comments and likes are super appreciated as always. I love love love seeing them :)  
> Thank you!!! <3


	8. Stairs to the Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> e p i l o g u e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! This is the epilogue to this story!
> 
> There will be notes at the end and thank you, but for now enjoy!!!

T R A C K 8  
…StairsToTheAttic…

Akaashi and Oikawa were unanimous in their decision that it was time for them to move. The apartment they had shared for those five years was no longer a place they felt was home.

Having to pick up their entire lives again was a nuisance. Quitting their jobs, finding new ones, apartment searching. None of it was pleasant. But they never once doubted their decision.

They still had a home with each other. They would always be best friends. They had protected each other when they needed it most.

But now they let more people in. They had more trust in the world.

There were still bad days. Days when the weight of the world felt positively crushing. But they would never turn back.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

Akaashi rested his hands against the edge of the countertop, forearms turned upwards. He watched as hot, brown liquid began to fill the coffee pot.

He yawned as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind. He didn’t react. This was safe. Bokuto’s chin rested on Akaashi’s shoulder, spiky hairs tickling his cheek.

“Hey, Bo.” He leaned into the touch.

Bokuto nuzzled closer. “mm… ‘Kaashi. You’re making coffee?” He spoke warmly into his neck.

Akaashi chuckled. God, he was so cute. “Don’t worry, I got you a mug.”

Bokuto grinned, pressing a kiss into the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. “You’re the best, babe.”

“I hate when you call me that.”

Bokuto’s kiss turned into a devilish smirk. “Sorry, babe.”

Akaashi turned to gear at the man, but there was no bite behind it.

Bokuto pressed a quick peck to his boyfriend’s lips before he could provide a snarky remark. “Did you take your medicine yet?”

Akaashi hummed. “Yeah. I’m getting low, thought. I need to call in a refill.”

Bokuto hopped onto the counter, legs swinging aimlessly. Akaashi groaned at the sudden lack of body heat surrounding him.

“It today a good day?” Bokuto asked, rubbing Akaashi’s shoulders up and down to provide warmth.

Akaashi thought for a second, before giving the smallest hint of a smirk. “I don’t know. Maybe if someone gave me another kiss it will be.”

The request was obliged without protest. This was good. Things were good. This was home.

Their first kiss was three years ago now. How time flies. But it was time spent cooking together. Time spent telling each other every detail of their work day. Time spent hosting double dates with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Time spent getting better. .Time spent making mistakes. Time spent learning how to love again.

Akaashi thought back to three years ago, when he had left that attic for the last time.

.-- .... .- - / -.. .. -.. / -.-- --- ..- / ..-. .. -. -.. ..--.. / -. --- - .... .. -. --. .-.-.---. --- --- -.. .-.-.-

Akaashi sat on the old sofa, feeling every inch of history this room held. This room used to be the attic of the universe. The place where insignificance and helplessness weighed down on him as he futilely attempted to find reason. This was where he learned to devalue every aspect of himself. Where he decided he needed to escape.

Now, walking down the stairs from the attic, he found himself feeling bittersweet. He was getting better. He was leaving it behind like he was leaving behind the significance he had placed on the universe. But, in a lot of ways, he brought the attic of the universe with him. At times he would walk back up that staircase in his mind, but he knew he would inevitably descend from them again.

He didn’t find love in the attic, no matter how hard he searched. He never found it on the roof or in the silence either. No matter how much he ran from the universe, it would always catch him. And it never felt like love.

Love was found in the arms of Bokuto and his friends. Love was first found in the snow at the playground they had known since childhood.

So he descended down the stairs without looking back. 

And for the last time, he closed the door to the attic.

..-. .. -. .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / .. - / .... .- -.. / ..-. --- ..- -. -.. / -- . / - .... . / .- -. ... .-- . .-. --..-- / - .... . / ..-. . . .-.. .. -. --. --..-- / .- -. -.. / - .... . / - .-. ..- - .... ---... / - .... .- - / .. .----. -- / ... -- .- .-.. .-.. / .. .----. -- / ... -- .- .-.. .-.. . .-. / - .... .- -. / - .... . / ... -- .- .-.. .-.. . ... - / ..-. .. .-. . -... .- .-.. .-.. .-.-.-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> Wow. I am really glad I set off to write this. It's been an experience for sure!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story and I hope my writing was bearable. Thank you all for the sweet comments and for reading this all the way through. That is truly the best compliment I could ask for!!!
> 
> This has meant so so so much to me! :)
> 
> Goodbye~ (for now)


End file.
